Fifty Shades of Lincoln

Chapter 2

"Katherine Lincoln," Christian read. "Date of birth: September 22nd in the year 2015, correct?" Mother grumbled in response. Christian, taking the grumbling as a 'yes', turned the papers to mother, and placed a pen in front of her.

Mother stared blankly at the document, not a hint of sadness in her dark, blue eyes. I shouldn't have been surprised. Why would Mother be upset about losing something so worthless?

Mother took the pen in her hand and quickly scribbled her signature. "There," Mother snapped. She rose from her seat as she passed the document back to Christian. Turning to me, she clutched my shoulder. "Just wait, you'll come running back to me. You won't be able to last a minute out there with no one controlling every aspect of your worthless life."

"Katherine." Worthless. "That's not true." Nothing more than an object. "You deserve much more than the derelict life your mother has given to you." I'll never be enough. "You're such a beauteous young lady, inside and out. Believe me when I say that."

Am I?

#

"I know this is all very overwhelming, Katherine," Christian said, voice softer than I had ever heard. I nodded, not trusting my voice to produce a clear sound. If only I could've been as well-spoken as Mother.

I took a deep breath. Mother was the last subject I wanted to think about at that moment.

"Um...Am I coming to live with you now?" I murmured. Despite the argument Christian and Mother had while I was present, I hadn't been filled in on the situation.

Christian nodded. "Yes, you'll be living with me and my family," he explained. "My wife, Ana, will be there. Along with my children, Theodore and Phoebe; they're only a bit older than you are." I shook—I had rarely ever been in a space that had multiple people in it. The thought of living with a large group frightened me.

"I—I just want to warn you that I have an issue with touching," I stuttered. "I get scared if someone touches me when I can't see them." Christian nodded, and I almost broke out into laughter, which would've contrasted from my fear. He had absolutely no idea what I went through when someone placed a hand on me.

"I'll ensure everyone is careful around you," he told me. "And I promise, no one will ever touch you again. I won't allow it." I looked to him, my eyes full of heavy tears. His face bore a kind smile, one I had rarely seen—but his eyes, dark and grey.

"Thank you," I said, almost whispering. As I went to speak again, my voice was cut off by a sob. Mother wasn't whom I thought she was, was she? She was a cruel, abusive lady that had manipulated me. My entire life was just full of my naïve self and my sadistic mother. I took my head in my hands and wept. As tears poured down my face and into my hands, Christian put his hand on my knee, directly in my line of sight. I glanced up at his and gave him a small smile of appreciation.

"I've never seen anyone speak as you did to Mother," I told Christian once my sobbing had ceased and the fear that had been shaking through my body resumed.

Christian chuckled. "Your mother and I, we have a past." I stared blankly at him, so he added, "Not one worth brooding over." Despite what Christian had said, my mind flew all over the place. A past—what kind of past? In the documentary Mother had shown me—The Road to Submitting—people had two kinds of pasts: one so dark and twisted, or one where everything was handed directly to them. Mother called the people who had the latter spineless exploiters. Christian's past had to be the former, or Mother never would have had him as company.

But how dark could his past actually be?

Before I could ask, the car braked to a stop. Christian swiftly exited the car and came around to the side I had been sitting on, then opened the door so I could step out.

Outside was a large building, with many windows that signaled the start and end of each floor. Making sure I was looking, Christian grabbed my hand softly and led me through the large entrance of the building. He brought me to an elevator and pressed the button with an up arrow. Immediately the elevator doors open and we step inside. The only sound was my rapid breathing and an occasional sigh from Christian.

As the door reopened a large foyer came into view, but I believed my eyes had been larger. Never in my life had I see anything as breathtaking. The widespread marble floor was almost empty except for the piano that was placed next to the giant glass wall which allowed me to see out into the city.

To the left of the piano was a white wall made out of see-through circles. Up two small steps and past that wall was a dining area with a table longer than one I had ever seen. Mother's dining room is a closet compared to Christians. I sucked in a breath, but soon remember that Mother was not here. She would never get close to me again, and I couldn't help but smile.

Looking up I could see a staircase leading to another floor. Coming from that floor were footsteps and hushed chatter. People. Surprising me, my breathing sped up more than I ever thought could be possible. First down the stairs was a tall, slender lady. Ana. Her long brown hair sculpted her pale face, which led my gaze to her kind, blue eyes. A smile was wide upon her face. Beside her were two people who, based on what Christian had told me, were Theodore and Phoebe. Theodore looked exactly like Christian except for his blue eyes, those were Ana's. Phoebe was an even mix of both: her mother's light brown hair, her father's dark grey eyes, and fair skin. It was an attractive family, which caused me to become extremely self-conscious and unsure if I would ever really fit in here.

"Hello there!" Ana chirped. She rushed towards me, arms wide.

She was going to touch me.